Chapter 5

Arce

That damn puppy was starting to bare his fangs. Very well. It was time for me to bite back. I had only been taken aback before, that was all.

Father had ordered me to kill the Alpha discreetly, but that was impossible for now. The moment he dropped dead, all eyes would turn to me, the outsider, the foreign threat.

So I would wait. I would prove myself first, show them I wanted nothing more than to endure this cursed year.

With nothing else to do, I decided to take a walk through the halls, memorizing the house’s structure and every turn it offered. When I returned, the Beta had already interfered with my chambers. The coffin was gone, replaced with something more tolerable, a proper bed soft and warm. At the very least, he had spared me the insult of that ridiculous stage set.

And then, at last, came dinner.

I furrowed my brows at the sight of a woman I had never met, seated beside the largest dog in this pack, already tearing into her meat.

“Finally,” he drawled, not even bothering to rise. Custom dictated that one stood to greet an arrival at the dining table, wolf or vampire alike, yet he remained seated as if I were beneath such courtesy.

A servant pulled out a chair for me, and I sat. As if mocking me, they served meat, when it was carved into law and tradition that vampires are no carnivores. Especially a Bloodling like me, whose very survival rested solely on blood.

“Would you rather serve me yourself?” I asked the servant with an eerie smile. “Though I imagine your blood would taste as bitter as your nature.” My voice dripped sweet venom as I pushed to my feet.

I had come to this dinner with every intention of striking back, of reclaiming what he had taken from me earlier with his words and his hands. Yet in the end, I was still the one slighted, the one offended.

All I could do was meet my host’s gaze with a blank, cutting stare. “I’ve lost my appetite,” I said coolly before turning and leaving without another word.

But I could feel it, my throat tightening, the hunger clawing at me from within. It was time. Time for my next drink. Any other Bloodling would have already lost control by now, tearing into the nearest body until there was nothing left to drain. But my revulsion for these dogs and my relentless grip on control kept me from snapping.

“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath as my vision wavered, the edges of the world blurring. I was straddling a knife’s edge, one step away from predator, one step away from prey.

No. Not them. Never them. An animal would be better.

I stumbled toward the door, clawing for escape, for air, for anything but the intoxicating pulse of wolf veins all around me. Blood. I needed it. Needed it now.

Then hands. A grip like iron closed around my arm and spun me. My blurred sight caught only a figure, towering and immovable. And then a neck, offered to me deliberately. The scent hit me like a storm, rich and maddening, flooding my senses until my knees nearly buckled.

“Drink,” came the command. A voice I would recognize anywhere.

I obeyed before I could think. My fangs tore into hot flesh, and ecstasy ignited in my veins. The first rush of blood slid down my throat like fire and silk combined, and I groaned against his skin. Never in my life had blood tasted like this. Sweet, potent, intoxicating. I wanted more. I wanted everything. I wanted to drain him dry, to devour the very essence of him as if I had been starved for centuries.

Sanity returned in a crashing wave. My sight cleared, my mind snapped back, and horror seized me. I shoved him away with all my strength, but he was immovable, stone carved into the shape of a man. The force only sent me sprawling to the ground.

My stomach twisted in revolt. I gagged, pressing two fingers down my throat, desperate to purge him from me, to rid myself of the taint of wolf blood. No. No, I could not keep it.

“That’s enough.” His hand clamped around my wrist, halting me with effortless strength. His voice was final, commanding, brooking no refusal.

Panic surged through me like ice. My chest heaved, my lips trembled. “No… I don’t want this,” I choked, the words breaking, before the world tilted sideways. Darkness swallowed me whole as I collapsed to the ground.

“I didn’t think it possible for a vampire to lose consciousness.” The voice cut through the haze as my eyes flickered open. The Beta. Of course.

I did not answer. My tongue was still haunted by the memory, the taste of the Alpha’s blood. Rich. Addicting. Dangerous.

“I apologize,” the Beta said stiffly. “It was a mistake of the servant. We never intended to offend you. Here.” He extended a glass filled with thick, dark crimson. “This is what should have been served to you. Drink.”

With clenched teeth, I accepted. My throat burned with thirst. I had purged most of what I had taken earlier, and the hunger gnawed viciously at me.

But the moment it slid down my throat, my body revolted. I gagged, doubled over, and vomited the entire mouthful onto the sheets.

The Beta’s hand pressed lightly against my back. “Are you alright?”

I jerked away from his touch with as much strength as I could muster. “Don’t touch me.”

What was happening? Poison? No. The flavor was unmistakably that of animal blood. Familiar. Harmless. Yet my body rejected it still.

Then the truth struck me like a stake to the chest.

The Unbinding.

The curse every vampire dreaded, when a body began to reject all blood save for one source. And mine, mine had chosen him.

“It can’t be.” My hand flew to cover my mouth, as though I could shove the reality back inside. “Fuck. No.”

The Beta’s voice broke with unease. “What is it? You’re scaring me.”

Too much. Too much in a single day. My first day in this wretched house, and already the threads of my control were unraveling. Craving him, the Alpha, was unthinkable. I would starve before I bent to such a fate.

“Fuck it,” I snarled under my breath. I seized the glass again and forced the rest of its contents down, shoving the blood past my throat with sheer will. My stomach lurched, but I clamped my hand against my mouth and throat, choking back the reflex, forcing myself to hold it in. Not a drop. Not a surrender.

“Are you alright? Answer me!”

“I’m fine,” I rasped between ragged breaths, setting the glass down with shaking fingers. “This is normal for a Bloodling.” The lie slid easily, even if my chest burned with it.

“Falling unconscious, however, that was new, even for me.” I said, rising to strip the soiled sheets from the bed where the blood had spilled.

The Beta frowned. “I’ll call for someone to clean this. You should rest.” he offered.

I arched a brow, forcing a smile that held no warmth. “Quite the worrywart, aren’t you?”

But I wasn’t fooled. Wolves in sheep’s clothing were still wolves. I despised them all the same.

Sinking into the couch, I pressed trembling fingers to my throat. No. I would not succumb. I would not hunger for him. I would not crave a wolf’s blood.

Never.